Beaucoup de Sexual Harassment
by Evil Asian Genius
Summary: Watari's potion turns Hisoka into a girl. And there's only one way to reverse it…


Title: Beaucoup de Sexual Harassment

Summary: Watari's potion turns Hisoka into a girl. And there's only one way to reverse it… 

Monday morning. 8 A.M. 

A dire emergency in Shokan division, EnmaCho. 

"What. Did. You. Do?" Hisoka's voice was cold, livid with anger. Half the department lifted their heads up from their desks when they heard his voice in the hallway. All eyes then turned to Tsuzuki, who shrugged helplessly.

"But Bon! It worked! Don't you see? It worked!" Watari sounded almost manically happy. Everyone in office (at the time, Tatsumi, Tsuzuki, Terazuma, and Wakaba) took a proverbial step backwards, wondering what sort of horror Watari's latest experiment had wrought.

"Change me back, *now*," Hisoka replied, the quality of that 'now' nearly chilly enough to send icicles dripping down the doorway.

"My potion wo~rked!" Watari bubbled. "Oh, I could just hug you! 

"Don't touch me!"

"Just let me take one look at…Oof." Watari went flying backwards past the open door, the victim of an errant psychic blast.

Tsuzuki and Tatsumi both ran to see what had caused Hisoka to lose control so suddenly. 

And they both stared.

Hisoka was a mess. His clothes were in a disarrayed shamble. Except, grammatically (and taxonomically) speaking, that last sentence wasn't correct.

It should be:

Hisoka was a mess. Her clothes were in a disarrayed shamble. 

One Lump or Two?

"So let's get this straight." Tatsumi stood in the privacy of his locked office with Hisoka, Watari, and Tsuzuki crowded in. "You created a new potion to test the gender switch and put it in the office creamer."

"Only because I was out of containers and that was the closest one I found," Watari said. "I left it in the break room for just one moment while I…"

Tatsumi raised his hand, cutting off Watari's words with a gesture. Turning to Hisoka, he asked, "And you drank the potion?"

Hisoka nodded. "I had a few sips of my coffee and thought it tasted strange. I thought maybe the creamer had gone bad, so I dumped out the rest of it, and washed up the container." She shivered under the coat borrowed from Tsuzuki and pulled it closer, mindful of the more than ample cleavage showing beneath the stretched material of her dress shirt. 

Watari, still more than slightly singed from Hisoka's earlier outburst, had a suitably mournful look on his face at those words. "My potion…it worked, and…and…"

"And then you tried to grope Kurosaki…ahem…kun?" Tatsumi asked. 

"I didn't meant to! I just wanted to see the results of…"

"Didn't mean to! You! Touched! My…my…"

"Breasts?" Tsuzuki suggested helpfully.

"Argh!" Hisoka stood up, temper flashing like lightning under stormy skies. "If you don't turn me back this instant, I am so going to kill you, Watari!"

"Kurosaki-kun! There is to be no killing," Tatsumi said, his voice clipped with tones of authority, startling Hisoka out of her rage. "Please see one of your female coworkers and borrow some more…appropriate garments. We will discuss this further later."

Appropriate Garments

Kannuki residence, 10 A.M.

"You don't want pantyline, do you?" Wakaba stood with her hands on her hips. Before her, Hisoka stood naked, vulnerable and trembling. "Listen, Hisoka, this is what all girls wear. You're just going to have to get used to it."

"I…but…this…I'm…" Hisoka turned beet red. "I can't wear this! It's…frilly and so…small!" Hisoka held up a little thong bikini, pink with lace. It seemed obscenely flimsy in contrast to a good sturdy pair of briefs.

"Girls wear this all the time. Do you want me to show you mine?" Wakaba grabbed the hem of her own skirt and started pulling it up.

"N-no! I'll…I'll wear it!" Hisoka squeaked and began dressing. With some help, she managed the bra (hooks were a bitch) and, a few minutes later, was girded for battle with the outside world.

"This is very uncomfortable," Hisoka said, pulling and fussing with the bottom edge of the bra, the underwire cutting into her skin. "How do you girls manage it?"

"We're stronger than silly men," Wakaba said as she steered Hisoka toward a full-length mirror. "Now, do you like it?"

"Cute!" Hisoka said, before she realized it. "I mean…that…that's me?" A stranger stood before her in the mirror. The eyes, the hair – those were all the same, but the body… It was boyishly slender still, but with gentle curves rounding out the soft, pert breasts, the scintillating line of hip – she was desirable by even her own standards. "I…wow." Hisoka stared.

"Perfection!" Wakaba giggled and gave Hisoka a quick hug. "You're so hot!"

"I…yeah…I guess I am…" Hisoka blushed at herself. "But why's the skirt so short?"

"Oh that? You're taller. Look, we better get back to the office before Tatsumi gets mad at us. Let's go!" Wakaba grinned a little evil grin to herself as she ran out with a confused Hisoka in tow.

No Frills

"Wah, Hisoka-chan is so cute!" Tsuzuki said, bounding up to the pair. "I could just eat you up and…OW!" 

Hisoka glared. "No touchy the breasts."

"That hurt," Tsuzuki sniffled, rubbing his hand where Hisoka had smacked him.

"I know. It was supposed to." Hisoka scowled. "But it's not half as bad as the underwear. I'm itching and uncomfortable in places I didn't even know existed."

"Oh! Underwear?" Tsuzuki winked. 

"I borrowed them from Wakaba." Hisoka turned beet-red remembering she was wearing Wakaba's underwear and looked to Wakaba for assistance, but it seemed that she had run off somewhere. 

"Wakaba's underwear?" Tsuzuki looked surprised.

"Shut up!" Hisoka never realized she could turn this red.

"Is Hisoka-chan wearing frilly underthings?"

"I AM NOT WEARING FRILLY UNDERTHINGS!" Hisoka shouted. From all around the office came half-choked titters and snickers.

Tsuzuki's eyes grew wide. "Does that mean you're not wearing anything under that skirt?" Tsuzuki caught the hem of the skirt.

"BAKA!!" 

The Solution

11:30 AM, Shokan Division, Conference Room.

Time for a meeting. Tsuzuki, Hisoka, Watari, Tatsumi, Konoe, and Terazuma.

Tsuzuki rubbed his still-singed hand. Hisoka glared at anyone whose eyes lingered on her longer than what it took to get a basic affirmation of her existence.

Oddly, this wasn't too out of the norm.

"Watari has devised a solution for this current…situation," Tatsumi said, looking crisp and cool as he shuffled the papers. "Watari?"

The lights dimmed and a projection screen came down. 

"As you can see, the adrenal…" Watari's laser pointer left a wiggling red dot across the surface of the image on the screen.

"Solution. Now." Hisoka stood up impatiently. 

"Ah, but I made these Powerpoint slides and…wah?" Watari found himself shoved up against the wall by what he could only describe as a small blonde hurricane.

"Listen, Watari." Hisoka ground the words out while she twisted the lapels on Watari's coat. "I don't like being a girl and I want to change back. Now."

"All right, all right…" Someone, thankfully, turned the lights back on and with some coaxing, Tatsumi and Tsuzuki eventually managed to pry Hisoka off of Watari. Eventually enough order was restored to the meeting so that Watari could continue.

"The solution is simple. You have to lose your virginity," Watari said. Hisoka nearly jumped at Watari again, but Tsuzuki seized her before she could latch herself onto his throat. "Since you don't want the long explanation, you're just going to have to trust me on that. I even had a chart with all the combination pairings all set up so that you could pick who you wanted to have sex with."

"Have…sex…with…" Hisoka nearly fainted as the words finally sunk in. "Have sex with…"

Tatsumi interrupted. "Which is why I called this meeting. According to Watari's data, this must be accomplished in the next day or two, or the change will be permanent. One of you," he said to the assembled Shinigami, "will be chosen to volunteer in helping Kurosaki-kun with this…problem."

"Wait, then why the hell am I here?" Terazuma was somewhere between confused and disgusted. "I ain't having sex with no one." He stomped off.

Hisoka looked around the room at the assembled Shinigami. 

She pointed at Konoe. 

Konoe blinked. "Kurosaki-kun…that is…I'm flattered…"

"No, get out. You're disqualified."

"What?!" But at the look in Hisoka's eyes, Konoe decided to cut his losses and beat a hasty retreat from the room.

Next, Hisoka stared at Watari, who tried to look innocent and, failing at that, at least tried not to back down from the stare. "Out."

"But Bon, I…"

"Out." And with that, Watari was disqualified as well.

Tsuzuki stared at Hisoka with violet eyes welling with unspoken emotion. Tatsumi looked wholly uncomfortable.

It was down to these two. Hisoka leaned back in her chair, smoothing the folds of the skirt before her, considering the pros and cons.

"All right. I think I know who I want to do it with," Hisoka said finally. She sat up straight and looked at Tsuzuki, who nearly leapt out of his chair with anticipation.

"Tatsumi." Hisoka said finally. "He's well-grounded and emotionally solid. I don't want this to be more uncomfortable than it already is." Tatsumi stared, too shocked to say anything. 

"Hisokaaaa…" Tsuzuki's voice was full of misery.

"It's nothing personal," Hisoka said, looking guilty and nervous as the realization of her choice set in. "Tsuzuki, I…well, I know how you are, and what you like and…uh…it's just…I think Tatsumi-san has a better chance of doing it right."

"So mean!" Tsuzuki ran off, slamming the door behind him.

Tatsumi shook his head. "I'm only doing this because I have to, not because I want to," he said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, but I better get a nice dinner first." Hisoka scowled. "I'm not easy."

"No one ever said you were." Tatsumi got up, took his stack of papers, and left.

The Mood

Monday Night, 9 P.M. Somewhere outside of a restaurant in Meifu.

"This isn't going to work." Hisoka shrugged Tatsumi's arm off her shoulder. "I…I'm sorry Tatsumi-san." 

"It's quite all right," Tatsumi said, a little hurt by Hisoka's coldness. He drew back brusquely. Hisoka winced at the empathic pain.

"I don't mean to hurt you, Tatsumi-san. It's just…well, I don't…think that I'm right for this," Hisoka said, pulling her coat across her shoulders tighter, trying to hide that swell of bosom. "Maybe I'll be stuck like this forever. I just…I didn't want to make this so complicated, which is why I chose you. But having to choose…I know I've hurt Tsuzuki's feelings."

"Tsuzuki will heal, as long as he knows that you're happy with what you've chosen," Tatsumi said. "But, as you know, sometimes when the situation is too personal, a neutral party can help resolve matters."

"Do you mean that I should find someone else?" Hisoka said, voicing the thought out loud. It had crossed his mind…there was someone…a man from the past that Hisoka knew could be depended on for this sort of thing. Hisoka shivered a little, and whether it was because it was cold or because of something else, only Hisoka knew.

"Go to Chijou, if you like," Tatsumi continued, oblivious to Hisoka's line of thought. "The night is still young and there are bars in Tokyo for this sort of thing. I'm sure you can meet someone that will be willing to help you."

"Thank you, Tatsumi-san," Hisoka said, covering the weird twinges of anxiety that were building in her stomach. "I'll be back soon, I promise." /I hope./

"I won't wait up for you," Tatsumi said. With that, he leaned down and demurely kissed Hisoka on the cheek. "Thank you for your company."

"Thank you for dinner, Tatsumi-san," Hisoka said shakily, pink to the ears from the kiss. 

And with that, Hisoka made her way to where she knew she would be able to find the person who would be perfect to do the deed.

The Deflowering

"Really, Oriya, you didn't have to go to all this trouble for me," Muraki said, lounging back luxuriously on the heated floor of Kokakurou after dinner. Outside, an inhospitable wintry sleet poured from the sky. 

Oriya waved it off. "It was nothing. Just dinner. I've dessert too tonight, something special that I think you'll enjoy."

"Oh?" Muraki raised an eyebrow as he lifted the delicate cup of deliciously heated saké toward Oriya in the semblance of a toast. Oriya raised his own cup ironically and downed it, the alcohol leaving a hint of sweetness against his tongue.

At that, the door came flying open.

"Hmm?" Muraki and Oriya looked up. If it hadn't been Kokakurou, and if it hadn't been that particular night, both men would have been on their feet, ready to fight. But today, the two were far too lazy to be bothered with irritations, content with pleasure and good conversation.

Before them stood a figure, dripping wet from the sleet, shivering and disheveled.

"You!" A finger pointed. But as Muraki and Oriya were lounging next to each other, for a moment, the two looked curiously at the other, wondering what this mysterious blonde stormcrow wanted.

"Me?" Muraki raised an eyebrow. He could sense the curse marks on this…girl…but it wasn't…couldn't be…"Kurosaki Hisoka?"

Hisoka glared. "Not you." A pause. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you." Muraki sat up and adjusted his glasses, careful to stow his cup somewhere safe. "Is this the dessert you were talking about, Oriya?"

"Not at all," Oriya said, his eyes focused on the girl standing before him, her shirt plastered wetly to her breasts. A pair of lustrous green eyes flashed at him. "But it's oddly suitable."

"I'm here for you." Hisoka pointed at Oriya.

"You cannot take his life, b-er…girl," Muraki straightened up, as if ready to leap forward. "You Shinigami have no authority to…"

"ARGH!" Hisoka threw her hands up into the air, an exasperated gesture. "That's not what I meant!" And with that, she raged forward, faster than either of them was prepared for.

In a clatter of dishes and a thump on the tatami, Oriya found himself lying on his back with a rain-splattered girl straddling his chest. When he moved to try to push her off, she only slapped his hands down.

"I want you to take me, now," Hisoka said to Oriya, taking advantage of her momentum to start rapidly unbuttoning her wet blouse.

"Isn't this a little forward?" Oriya raised an ironic eyebrow. "After all, shouldn't there at least…"

With that, he was silenced with an exceedingly thorough kiss, followed by an equally thorough grope.

Muraki gaped.

Hisoka pulled back from Oriya and half-turned her head to glare at Muraki. "Okay, this isn't a free show, pervert. Get out, now!"

"Make me." Muraki stood with his feet planted firm.

"Kazutaka. The door. Now." Oriya gestured from his supine position as Hisoka began doing something with her hands to something under his kimono.

"But Oriya…!"

"OUT!" And with that, Muraki was banished.

Afterwards

"I thought you were a boy," Oriya said, finally, after he had caught his breath.

"I am now." Hisoka said, his head resting comfortably in the crook of Oriya's shoulder. 

An exploratory caress, and Oriya drew his hand back, surprised. "I see. Does this always happen?"

"No. It was an accident. Too long to explain." Hisoka yawned, too tired to be bothered with the details. "I should probably go home."

"Ah, but it's late, and it's still raining outside," Oriya said softly, drawing the covers close over Hisoka's bare skin. "Stay here tonight. You're under my protection."

"Mmm…" Hisoka murmured drowsily as sleep threatened to take him over. "All right." He was in no mood to move. "Thank you, Oriya-san. It was good. Except…I forgot…"

"Forgot what?" Oriya's voice was a sensual whisper in the darkness. He drew Hisoka close, and Hisoka snuggled against his chest, seeking warmth. 

"Should have…picked someone…smaller…penis…"

Epilogue

Nine months later…

"Oriya-san, there's a visitor who wants to see you." The servant's voice came through from the other side of the door.

"Hmm? Who is it?" Oriya looked up from the go board. Muraki shrugged at him. It was far past the normal time for visitors.

"A young man with blonde hair. He's with a child."

Muraki gave Oriya a look. Oriya shrugged. "Send them in."

Hisoka entered with an infant cradled in his arms. "Oriya-san. Remember, about nine months ago, you and I..." Oriya stared blankly at the dark-haired infant. Shocked, Muraki dropped the white go piece and it clattered to the tatami floor. 

"Kurosaki-kun? Does this mean…" 

"Yes, Oriya-san." Hisoka walked over with the infant and sat down on Oriya's lap, scattering go pieces. "Look. He's got your eyes."

Muraki hit the tatami floor with a thud.

"I don't…know what to say." Oriya blinked as the infant grabbed his finger.

"You don't have to." Hisoka finally laughed and blew a breath over the child, which turned into an ofuda. "I'm kidding. It was just a shikigami." He waved the piece of paper between his fingertips and glanced at Muraki, who looked particularly pale and a little ill. "I just wanted to see the look on his face." 

At that, Oriya laughed too.

End!

Author's notes: Thanks to Aeanagwen for proofreading! Title borrowed with permission from Majinkarp – as yaoi fangirls may note, it's a corruption of the title "Boku no Sexual Harassment." Basic premise borrowed from a doujinshi with the same premise (RubyD told me about it). Story inspired by a discussion with Rinoa.  

Eyecatch:

Hisoka: Tsuzuki! 

Tsuzuki: What? 

Hisoka: Corn does not go there!! 

Tsuzuki: But it's buttered…

Hisoka: STOP IT!!!!


End file.
